


it's raining tears and a little bit of hope

by peterpiperparker, wisdom_walks_alone



Category: Batman - All Media Types, DCU
Genre: Alternate Universe - Superheroes/Superpowers, Based on The Umbrella Academy, Dysfunctional Family, Gen, TUA AU, trading one dysfunctional family dynamic for another, when are they not
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-10-21
Updated: 2020-10-21
Packaged: 2021-03-09 01:47:25
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,628
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27136123
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/peterpiperparker/pseuds/peterpiperparker, https://archiveofourown.org/users/wisdom_walks_alone/pseuds/wisdom_walks_alone
Summary: On October 1, 1993, forty-three children were born at the same time. This wouldn’t seem unusual, aside from the fact that none of the women had been pregnant that morning.Eccentric playboy billionaire Bruce Wayne made it his mission to find and retrieve as many of these remarkable infants as he could. No amount was infeasible for him to give in return, offering however much it took to leave with a baby in tow.He got five.Or: Bruce Wayne adopted five extraordinary children. He trained seven. They all came out okay, more or less.
Relationships: Cassandra Cain & Tim Drake & Dick Grayson & Jason Todd & Damian Wayne, Stephanie Brown & Barbara Gordon, Tim Drake & Jason Todd, the batkids & needing therapy
Comments: 22
Kudos: 46





	it's raining tears and a little bit of hope

On October 1, 1993, forty-three children were born at the same time. This wouldn’t seem unusual, aside from the fact that none of the women had been pregnant that morning. 

Eccentric playboy billionaire Bruce Wayne made it his mission to find and retrieve as many of these remarkable infants as he could. No amount was infeasible for him to give in return, offering however much it took to leave with a baby in tow.

_He got five._

Wayne Manor stands tall and proud and lonely as ever, just like it always has. Damian looks up at the place he once called home, eyes hard, fists clenching in his pockets, wondering what went wrong all those years ago.

 _So many things,_ his mind supplies. So, so many.

He stares up through the wrought iron gate for a minute more, then steels himself as he pushes past and trudges to the front door. The distance between the gate and the door is not short, and yet Damian is walking slowly.

He’s stalling.

He doesn’t remember the last time he was here. Well, that’s a lie. He remembers all too well. He remembers quiet halls and big, empty rooms. He remembers how everyone left.

Well, it’s not like any of that matters now.

Damian looks up at the grand oak door, a large owl-shaped knocker staring back at him. He ignores it, and reaches for the doorbell instead. 

The door opens to reveal a much welcomed face; Alfred smiles at him warmly. “Master Damian, a pleasure to see you again. I wish it were under better circumstances, but any opportunity to see you is one I look forward to.”

Damian allows himself to smile. “Pennyworth, it is good to see you. How are you?” he asks as he steps in to give the man a hug. The cross over the threshold causes the hair on the back of his neck to stand on end.

“I…I am alright, Master Damian. As alright as I can be. My son has died.”

Damian pulls back and squeezes Alfred’s arms, smiling sadly. “I know, Alfred. I’m sorry.” The kind butler just shakes his head.

“Nothing for you to be sorry about, my boy.” He steps aside and gestures to the rest of the house. “Please, come in.”

Jaw clenched, Damian forces himself further into the manor. He can hear sounds from the kitchen, but otherwise it’s silent. Just like it always is. Just like it always was.

He’s shaken out of his thoughts by Cass’s voice. “Five?”

Damian tries to hide the way the name makes him flinch as he turns to face her. “Hi, Cass,” he says, forcing a small smile. She comes forward and wraps him in a hug that he tightly returns. “And it’s, uh, it’s Damian now,” he adds as he pulls away.

Cass smiles. “Damian,” she repeats. “I like it.”

His own smile becomes a little more genuine. “It’s good to see you, Cass. I’ve missed you.”

Cass gestures to herself and then to Damian. _You, too._ He squeezes her hands.

“Five?” Damian turns to see Dick walking down the stairs. “Or, Damian, now, I guess.”

“Yeah,” Damian almost whispers, looking at the brother he used to think hung all the stars in the sky, who he hasn’t seen in almost nine years. His mouth suddenly feels dry. “Hi, Dick.”

Dick grins, like it was yesterday and not nine years ago, then comes to envelop Damian in a hug. Damian returns it stiffly, awkwardly patting his brother on the back. “I’m glad you could make it,” Dick says.

“Of course,” Damian tells him. “Of course I made it.”

“Yeah, of course,” Dick echoes, squeezing Damian tighter. “I’m glad you're here.”

Damian allows himself to find comfort in the embrace of his brother, relaxing into it, when someone comes out of the kitchen. “‘Least someone is.”

“Shut _up,_ Jason,” Dick shoots back, pulling back quickly to reprimand their brother. Jason just pops a grape into his mouth and shrugs as he passes.

“Brucie had a lot of flaws, but at least he knew what _he_ was.” Jason nods at Damian before he ascends the stairs, not sparing a glance back. Cass shakes her head disapprovingly.

“Don’t listen to him,” Dick tells Damian. “He’s just being pissy.”

“Whatever.” Damian shoulders his bag as he pushes past Dick. “He’s right, anyway.” With that, he stalks off, leaving Cass and Dick staring after him.

Jason shoves things aside within the desk drawer, muttering about paranoid bastards and secret compartments. Pens roll off the mahogany desk, clattering against the tile at his feet. He kicks them away absentmindedly. “Where the fuck is it?”

“What are you doing?”

Slamming the drawer shut so fast he narrowly misses his fingers, Jason looks at the entryway of the office. He scoffs when he sees Dick leaning against the doorframe. “Nunya.”

Dick huffs, stepping into the room and glancing around at the photos and newspaper clippings on the walls. “We really shouldn’t be in here.”

Jason falls into the leather office chair, swiveling side to side. “Please, the guy’s dead. What’s he gonna do, haunt us out of his office?” A wry smile pulls at Dick’s cheeks, and Jason scowls. “You know what I mean.”

“Yeah, well…” Dick examines the papers scattered across the desk, and Jason takes the opportunity to casually slide another drawer open. His hand pauses when Dick continues, “I used to wonder what kept him so busy in here.”

“Anything that kept him away from dealing with the kids he bought,” he says bluntly. Feeling a smooth surface instead of rough paper, Jason fights a smile. _Jackpot._

Dick frowns down at the papers. “Don’t say it like that,” he murmurs, pulling one page closer to him. “He wouldn’t have sought us out if he hadn’t wanted us.”

“Whatever helps you get over the daddy issues,” Jason drawls.

Dick glares at him. “Really, Jason?” Jason throws his hands up in mock surrender. Shaking his head, Dick looks back down to shuffle through the papers. 

Jason makes sure Dick is thoroughly distracted before pulling the ornate box from the drawer and sliding it under his hoodie. He leans over to see what Dick found, but falls back against the chair, rolling his eyes when he sees it’s old notes from their training days. “The good ol’ days, huh?”

Dick shrugs with a grimace, and is about to reply when there’s a knock on the open door. Jason peers around Dick to see Steph poking her head in. “C’mon, boys, Five’s got something he wants to share with the class.”

Jason shares a look with Dick, who seems to be just as clueless as he is. 

“All right,” Jason says, getting up from the chair. He’s careful to hide the box against his stomach. “Let’s see what the runt has to say.”

The presence of people in the parlour does nothing to ease the feeling of it being empty. It’s too big. Three people doesn’t mean anything in a room that can fit eighty. Damian can still feel the hair on his neck standing on end. Maybe it’s just the house.

Jason and Dick are the last to join them, Steph having gone to get them at Damian’s request. All six of them and the room still feels all too expansive.

“So, what do you want, brat?” Jason says as he stops to stand next to a couch. Dick kicks him in the shin.

“I wanted to talk about Father’s death,” Damian explains.

“What about it?” Barbara asks. “He had a heart attack.”

“Allegedly.”

“Allegedly?” Dick parrots. “Five—sorry, Damian—what are you implying?”

“There’s something off about his death,” Damian continues. “It doesn’t feel right.”

Steph shakes her head. “Are you suggesting foul play?”

“I’m saying that this doesn’t seem like an accident,” Damian tells her, leveling his gaze at the rest of them.

“So the old man finally decided to kick it, big whoop.” Jason crosses his arms. “What, are you saying one of us had something to do with it?”

“I never said that,” Damian snaps. “This entire situation, it just feels wrong.”

Jason snorts. “You say that as if there’s anything about us that’s ever right.”

“He makes points,” Steph chimes in.

“You’re not helping,” Damian deadpans. Steph just shrugs. “All I’m saying is that there’s something off about all of this. It doesn’t feel right.” Dick and Barbara look at each other. Cass’s face turns contemplative.

Jason shakes his head, a scoff on his lips. “And what do you expect us to do about it?” he challenges.

“I don’t know,” Damian admits quietly. Jason barks out a laugh.

“He doesn’t know! Isn’t that just fine and dandy? What was the point in holding this little meetup here, then?”

“I was open to suggestions,” Damian grits out. “I was hoping you’d all care enough to at least give it some thought.”

“Well, there’s your first mistake.” Jason drops onto the couch dramatically next to Cass, causing her to bounce a bit, and pulls a cigarette out of his jacket pocket. Dick scowls when he pulls out his lighter. “You really thought any of us gave a shit about that douchebag?” He lights the cigarette and takes a drag, then takes it out of his mouth to blow out a puff of smoke.

Dick scowls. “Do you have to do that here?” Jason ignores him.

Damian levels him with a hard glare, exasperation starting to show on his face. “If you don’t care, then why are you here?”

Jason shrugs, smiling slyly. “Just collecting my inheritance.”

Barbara smacks him for that. Steph groans. Damian bites back a growl.

“Why do you always have to be such an ass?” he says.

“It’s the daaaddy issuuues,” Jason sing-songs, spinning on the couch so that his legs are hanging over the armrest, his head in Cass’s lap. She shoves him off onto the floor. He bounces back easily enough, looking no more tipsy than he already was. “We all have daddy issues! That’s why we’re like this!”

“Not all of us,” Barbara mutters, rolling her eyes. Jason continues on as if she hadn’t spoken.

“That’s why you’re an attention whore,” he points to Dick, “why you’re a bitch with a hero complex,” he points to Cass, “and why you’re an outcast with more complexes than I can care to count.” His accusatory finger finally comes to Damian.

“And why you’re a deadbeat junkie who can’t stay out of a bar fight for more than a couple of hours?” Damian shoots back, eyes alight with unrestrained anger.

“Exactly!” Jason grins. “See, you’ve got it!” He starts laughing, turning around in a circle to look at them all. “That’s why I say: thank God this man is dead and gone!”

“Is that really what you’re going to go with?” Damian demands sharply.

“Yep,” Jason replies, popping the _p._

“This is serious, Jason. Something could seriously be wrong.”

“And I seriously don’t care!” Jason laughs.

“Enough!” Barbara leans forward, hands on the coffee table. “If we want to find out what happened once and for all and put this _all_ to rest, then why don’t you try and talk to Bruce?” She looks to Jason, eyes hard.

Jason scoffs, turning around and going to walk out of the parlour. “I would rather die.”

Jason stares down the urn on the bartop, resisting the urge to throw it out the window. He was hoping it wouldn’t come to this; he was quite happy with his last words to Bruce being “Go fuck yourself” when he’d moved out of the manor nine years ago.

He really hates to surrender that satisfaction. 

“Careful, it might bite,” a voice from behind him says. 

Scoffing, Jason turns his head a little to retort, “Shut up, I’m concentrating. Shoo.” He looks back to the urn, hoping he can magically make it combust into flames with his eyes. “Come on, you old fuck, you always wanted me to use my powers more. So here I am. Manifest, asshole.”

Nothing happens.

He hears a snort behind him, but he ignores it in favor of the silent urn in front of him. “God, you really are a stubborn bastard. Even death can’t change you.”

“I resent that.”

Jason groans, finally turning around. “Would you shut the fuck up? I’m trying here!”

Tim raises his eyebrows. “Oh, want a gold star?”

“No, I want you to go away. I can’t focus with your snarky ass in here.” Jason turns back to the urn, wishing he could make Tim tangible just so he could throttle him. “Bruce, I’m sure you’re itching to lecture me, so get your ass out here and get it over with.”

Nothing happens.

Tim sighs. “I’m bored,” he whines. “He’s not here, anyway.”

“What do you mean?” Jason asks, whirling around. “He’s not here? The pile of his charred up remains are right there, so _he’s_ right there. I’m not talking to an empty urn.” Narrowing his eyes, he cautiously opens the lid and peers in. “Yeah, no, he’s in there. Stinks.”

Rolling his eyes, Tim says, “Maybe, but I don’t feel him around us. He’s not here.”

Jason pauses, sitting down on a bar stool as he thinks. He rubs a hand down his face with a sigh. “I’m too sober for this.”

“You’re sober?”

“No.” He grabs a bottle of scotch from the side of the bar, popping off the cap and taking a swig.

Tim’s nose scrunches. “Classy.”

“Yeah, well, you’re assy,” Jason says between sips.

“Real intelligent, Austen is swooning in her grave,” Tim deadpans.

Jason points at Tim with the bottle. “Hey, don’t disrespect Austen’s name with your mouth.”

“Fuck right o—”

“Hey, it’s almost time to go outside for the memorial. Any luck?”

Tim stares at Steph dumbly when she unknowingly cuts him off. His eyes might as well be heart-shaped with how longingly he looks at her. 

Jason tries not to puke. “Nah, bastard’s refusing to show his ugly face.”

Steph laughs lightly. “Yeah, that sounds like him.” She teleports to the bar and picks up the urn.

“God, I forgot how annoying you were when you blipped,” Jason gripes, putting the empty bottle of scotch on the counter.

“You’re just jealous,” Steph replies airily, grinning impishly, “that my power is cooler.”

Tim scowls. “Not cooler than mine,” he quips. Jason snorts. 

“Yeah, whatever you say, Blondie. Let’s just get this stupid funeral over with so I can get outta here.”

Steph hums in agreement. As she starts to the door, her grip on the urn slips and it falls to the floor. Ashes spill out in a cloud of dust.

“Fuck!” Steph covers her mouth with her hands, letting out a muffled, “Oh, God.”

Jason cackles. “So much for your ‘cooler power’ if you can’t keep an urn in your butterfingers.”

Steph groans, flipping him off as she drops to the floor and tries to scoop ashes and put them back in the urn. “Just shut your face and help me, jackass.”

“Oh, no, this seems like a you problem.” He ignores Tim’s glare.

She manages to get a few handfuls in before she holds the urn up. “I’ll call that a success. Most of him’s in there.” She looks up at Jason, narrowing her eyes. She’s standing in front of him in a blink. “Dick can’t know. Capisce?”

Jason rolls his eyes. “I won’t tell Goldie, don’t worry. We don’t talk anyway.”

Steph considers this for a moment, tilting her head. “That’s sad, but it works in my favor, so.” She shrugs and shoves the urn into his hands. “Your turn.”

He feigns losing his grip and she shrieks.

Jason cackles all the way to the back door.

**Author's Note:**

> this is a collaboration between [wisdom-walks-alone](http://wisdom-walks-alone.tumblr.com) and [darlinglissa](http://darlinglissa.tumblr.com) on tumblr! please come say hi, we love friends!


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